"WHEN YOITRE LYING AWAKE" 77 



close though, and if nothing disturbing happened, 

 there might be oblivion for a while. " Ping " goes 

 a mosquito with his trumpet nose. He has found 

 his way into the net, and he circles round his 

 victim, shouting his threats, till he settles on face, 

 hand, or arm, his little lance thrust into a sensitive 

 nerve. The sufferer turns and tosses, till bed is 

 like a mustard leaf, the heat growing in intensity, 

 while every pore of the skin glows and rages with 

 prickly heat. A walk is taken up and down the 

 verandah, and perhaps a sponging with the tepid 

 water from the bath (cold water there is none), and 

 then another endeavour after slumber. This time 

 one's eyes get fascinated by the frill waving over 

 head. From Presto at the start, it has now 

 gradually become Largo. A shout of "Pull, "jerks 

 it along again for a few bars, but not enough to soothe 

 one into a deep sleep," or if it does, a sudden stop 

 wakes one with a start ; all bathed in perspiration, 

 and tingling in every pore. Oh ! for electric fans ! 

 I regret to say slippers or tennis shoes in showers 

 have sometimes descended on to the sleeper's head 

 below ; that being the only known means of rous- 

 ing him to his duty, except the contents of the 



